The Madness of Roses
by Mrs.Strider
Summary: Frustrated with the constant big-bad attacks on her and her sisters, and the complete lack of help she feels she has gotten with them, Paige Matthews makes the number one mistake any witch can make; she makes a wish. Now she is stuck in another dimension, with people chasing her thinking she, a Charmed One for goodness sake, is in fact a summoned demon!


"Leo! Chris! Piper! _Demon_!"

Paige Matthews-Halliwell, the youngest, and currently only Charmed One in the downstairs parlor, dropped to the floor behind the battered white couch, narrowly avoiding a nasty fireball aimed right for her head. "Oow." This was _so_ unfair! Today was supposed to be her day off from her latest temp-job routine, and here she was, fighting yet another big bad demon, aiming to kill her.

_Aren't they all?_ she thought starkly.

Blowing her dark hair from her face, she gave a quick glance around the room, spotting the elegant and pristine flower-bulb lamp Piper had bought just last week, to replace the one the last batch of unruly fiends had demolished. "Oh, she's gonna kill me," she murmured, before shooting to her knees. "Lamp!" she yelled, calling upon her white-lighter/witching inheritance. The defenseless object disappeared in a wave of soft blue lights, and with a violent wave of her hand, reappeared above the offending demon's head, knocking him to the floor while simultaneously shattering the lamp and the lounge-table.

Casualties of war.

Piper was _so_ going to kill her.

Well, if the demon did not beat her to it.

"Piper! Phoebe! Where the hell are you?" Another fireball flew fast past her shoulder, so close it singed the creamy white flesh and a lock of raven hair. The demon, tall dark, ugly — _again, weren't they all?_ — chuckled, straightening his grey suit. Paige was momentarily dumfounded. Most demons and hellish scum did not _laugh_ when they were about to be killed by a Charmed One. However, this one seemed positively delighted. "Paige, Paige, my dear, sweet Paige, I've heard _so_ much about you," he oozed, eyes narrowing on her, making her shudder. His slimy words seemed to slither over her skin like an oozing blanket, and she suddenly had the desire to take a long, scolding hot bath.

Suppressing a shudder, she cocked her head, getting ready to orb the next lamp into him, and possibly destroy any sisterly love Piper had for her. _Couch, lamp, table…yup when she gets home I am __**so**__ disowned_. But first… "Aaaand, I've heard absolutely nothing about you. Must not be all that high on demon ranking, pal."

The demon laughed heartily at this, as if these were mere antics, and this a simple scene, set up to amuse him. "I, my lovely, dear sweet Paige, am a card you will not be overturning just yet." He winked. "_Mistian Lor._" And with that his arm shot out, accompanied by a raging fire-ball.

"Dammit!" Desperate, she closed her eyes and orbed upstairs, into the attic, narrowly missing the fiery ball. Here was where her freedom just may lay, sitting atop an ancient wood stand.

The book of shadows.

It was an ancient tome, filled with the wisdom and knowledge of all of her and her sisters' ancestors. It contained spells and information on nearly every demon and warlock alive — and dead.

She shot up from her crouch and ran to it, practically flinging it open. _Okay, okay, where to look._ He wasn't a warlock… but he clearly was not a low-level demon either, though if he was really that high up, she would have recognized him. "Vanquishing spell… vanquishing spell…" Her eyes locked onto an old one, to destroy an old warlock named Nicholas. With a bit of tweaking…

The attic door slammed open with a blast of smoke and singed wood, and there he stood, grinning at her, red eyes winking. Paige inhaled quickly, closed her eyes, and began to chant,

"With a flick of my wrist,

Cleanse this evil from my mist

Let him no longer _exist_!"

She waved her hand furiously in his direction, watching with a rising hope as his step halted abruptly, his wide sharp-toothed grin fading. However, still, there was no sparks, no vanquish. "Okay, okay, I can do this!" She rubbed her head, heart pounding. She never was the best when it came to writing spells off-hand in an immediate situation. She breathed deeply, then snapped her fingers. "Got it!"

"This evil in front of me,

I do not wish to see

So melt him away

Away, away, away!"

Almost instantly, the most horrid stench filled the room. Paige gagged, covered her nose and mouth with her arm, but it was not enough. She could smell it, _taste_ it, him, his burning, melting flesh and bone. She did not want to look, told herself not to, but it was only human of her to take a peek through the thick curtain of dark silky hair. She gagged again. _Oh my God…I did that…?_ She shuddered, gagged again, turned as she felt herself grow too sick to hold it in. Sure, she had seen plenty of bad guys blown up, stabbed, hell, even _shatter_, but melt like _this_? Never… It was…it was just too much…and he was still…. She could hear…

She suppressed the sudden need to vomit violently, and orbed down into the kitchen, dropping to the floor. One year. She had been a witch for one year. Maybe a year and a half, give or take, and she still could not handle it. Was she really that weak?

Paige Matthews had been an only child before one year ago, a normal human with a normal job at the social-services office, until she had seen an ad in the paper about a funeral. It was for Prue Halliwell, and something, something deep inside had nagged at her until she went, though she had not known the Halliwells' at all!

Boy, was she in for a surprise!

Well, she had gone, and had been attacked by a demon, found out her late-parents weren't really her parents, and discovered that she was the off-spring of a witch and a whitelighter's scandalous affair. All in one single night. Finding out that her long-time boyfriend was being possessed by a demon who had waiting for the moment when she came into her powers to take them for himself, and that she had three half-sisters, was the proverbial icing on the cake. Well, two now…

And her high-school teachers thought she'd never do anything important! Ha!

She slumped against the counter, breathing the much-needed oxygen greedily as the stench slowly left her nostrils, and the warm, welcoming smell of the house filled her. Was she the weak link of her sisters? Was it her fault they usually needed all of them to kill even the most simplest of warlocks when it was her they wanted? Her sisters usually had to come to her aid. Sighing heavily, she stood. _Paige Matthews, the witch always in distress._ This only made her feelings and mood worsen, because this gave her the grand view of the damage her little battle had won. She shook her head, and began cleaning up the potions supplies she had been using before the stupid thing had surprised her. "I wish I were stronger," she murmured, cupping her hands around a pile of sage and scooping it up, along with the tonka-beans and thyme. Dropping them (rather carelessly) in their respective containers, she scooped up the powdered-sandalwood, tilting her hand to let the power fall into its tall glass. Capping it, she look another glance at the scene before her, and with a shake of her head murmured, "I wish I could just leave this…" Brushing her herb-covered hands on her pants, she proceeded to carry the bottles to the cabinet…

…not noticing the soft, swift sparkle that flew from her herb-printed pants, disappearing just as quickly as it had come.

"Oh, I wish, I wish, I can _I-wish_ all I want." She shoved the last bottle in, shutting the door none to gently. "Won't do me any good."

"Uuum…Paige? What the _hell_ happened in here?"

Clenching her jaw tightly, the lovely, and very angry witch stomped into the lounge-room.

It was butt-kicking time.

"I know, I know, but I was tied-up at work. And why didn't you just call Leo? Or Chris?" Phoebe lifted a piece of the shattered remains of the lamp, sighing heavily before dropping it into the large trash bin she had dragged inside. She surveyed the damage. Piper was going to kill them both, Paige for not vanquishing the demon fast enough, and her simply for being there.

Paige puffed a chunk of hair from hair face, only to have it fall back again. "Oh, like that _wasn't_ my _first_ thought?" She yanked her hair back, wincing at the pain. "They didn't answer." She tossed the shattered flower-bulb pieces inside.

"Paige! Careful!"

Paige only rolled her eyes. "Careful with what? It's broken anyways," she muttered.

"Oh…my…what the _hell_ happened in here?" They both turned to find their eldest sister, Piper, gasping in disbelief and fury, brown eyes glaring down at them, baby Wyatt in one hand, the other on her hip. "And let me tell you, it had better be a damned good one. Like an upper-level demon."

Paige closed her eyes, clenching her jaw. Don't speak, just don't speak…

"Piper, it _was_ a demon, not an upper-level, or, wait was it? But she was here alone, and had to vanquish it herself."

"She vanquished the _house_!"

"It wasn't her fault, Piper."

"Then whose fault is it? Huh? Yea! Tell me that?"

Paige could not take it anymore. "Oh, would you two just _shut up_!" They both looked at her. It was silent for a long moment. She slammed the remaining pieces of the lamp into the bin, the shattering clank resounding in the shocked silence. She stood, slowly. "_I_ am going to go take bath. _You_ guys can finish up here with this mess, which, by the way. You did _nothing_ to help stop when I needed you."

Piper began to protest. "Excuse me―" But it was too late. Paige had already disappeared in a flurry and indignant blue orbs. With her gone, Piper directed her wrath onto Phoebe. "What the _hell_ was that about?"

Phoebe, always the passive sister, shrugged weakly. "Well, to be fair, we weren't really here when she needed us, were we?" She knelt down and carefully scooped up a pile of shattered glass. "To have to take on a demon after only a year of training? I'm surprised she managed to kill it before it…" She faltered, going silent.

Piper gave a hefty sigh and stalked over to Wyatt's playpen, settling him in gently. "Maybe… but why didn't she even _think_ to call Leo, or Chris? The three of them certainly could have patched this up before the whole damn _house_ was destroyed."

"Piper," Phoebe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Aren't you being just a little bit dramatic?" She stood and waved her around in a sweeping arc, motioning towards the wreckage of the room. "The entire _house_ isn't destroyed… and neither is this room, for that matter. Just a few things." She nudged a shard of painted porcelain with her booted foot. "Things that can easily be replaced…"

Piper was not having any of it, though. "Things I just bought to replace the last batch of Halliwell heirlooms lost to all of these attacks."

"Better heirlooms and tables than Paige…" Phoebe murmured eyes downcast. A thick, warring silence filled the room. A sharp pang of regret went through her. Quietly, without responding to Phoebe's softly spoken statement, the eldest Charmed One knelt beside her younger sister, and began helping with the clean up. Perhaps she had been to hard on Paige. After all, how easy could it be to protect your own life _and_ be expected to protect the household objects around you?

Phoebe, knowing how she was feeling, reached over and gave her knee a comforting pat. "It's okay, Piper. You've had a long day. Just let me clean this up, and tomorrow I'll take a peek in that hot new little boutique on my lunch break. Ancient Nightshade, was it called?"

Piper plopped down onto her backside, sighing again. She stared absently at the torn lampshade in her hands. "Yea… I'm just…tired, ya' know? Of all of this." With that she tossed the torn fabric into the trash bin. "I mean, what's the point of trying to have a normal life, if it's always going to be disturbed by demons and big-bads trying to _kill_ us? And _Wyatt_? My _son_?"

Phoebe sighed heavily and stopped cleaning to look at her sister. It was not easy for Piper, she knew. Having to be expected to continue the duties of the Charmed Ones _and_ raise a baby boy. _A baby boy, who_, she mused, _had the power of a whitelighter and Charmed one._ "I know, honey, I know. But taking it out on Paige won't help make it any easier."

It was true, Piper realized. "I should go apologize."

Phoebe laughed. "What, and risk more Paige-wrath? Just give it a few hours, until she's calmed down." She patted the trash bin. "Now, let's get to work!"

Piper groaned but complied. "Alright, alright. Fine." And with that she grudgingly began the parlor room damage repair.


End file.
